Echoes of the Past
by nemoed
Summary: It spells 'trouble' for Mystic Falls when Elena gets attacked by an unknown vampire. And this is just the beginning as more vampires appear and take over the city. Now it's up to the Salvatore brothers to work together if they want to survive / D/E. - Indefinitely on hold.
1. Chapter 1

Title: Echoes of the Past.

Disclaimer: The Vampire Diaries and characters therein are the property of L.J. Smith and HarperCollins. The TV series is the property of the CW network, Alloy Entertainment, Kevin Williamson, Julie Plec, and various other persons. No copyright infringement is intended.

Summary: It spells 'trouble' for Mystic Falls when Elena is the first to get attacked by an unknown vampire. And this is just the beginning as more vampires appear and take over the city. Now it's up to the Salvatore brothers to work together if they want to survive // Damon/Elena. Stafan/Bonnie. Ensemble. Warning for violence.

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**~ Echoes of the Past --- Part 01 ~**

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It all happened very quickly. One second she was stomping across the cemetery, all but oozing righteous indignation and the next she found herself on the ground. On the cold, icy ground.

Elena groaned and pushed her hair behind her ears, then quickly corrected the mistake when the cold air hit her ears. She'd rather deal with impaired sight than frozen ears, she decided.

After all, she was all alone. No one around to witness her indignity. It was just her, the contents of her bag (now lying scattered across the path) and the thin layer of ice covering everything with a beautiful, albeit slippery white-ish sheen. And therein lay the problem, Elena reflected as she tentatively got back onto her feet. Being alone for a change. It felt good, though she had no problem admitting that it certainly wasn't the smartest thing to do in times like these. Times where everyone and their vampire chinchilla seemed to notice that she was a dead ringer for her ancestor Katherine and felt compelled to settle a few grudges with Elena since Katherine, being (hopefully) dead and dusty, was no longer available to seduce young (stupid) men and turn them into vampires.

Elena scoffed, her anger surging right up again as she reached for her diary which was lying innocently on a pile of frozen leaves last time she'd seen it. Just that it wasn't there anymore. Elena blinked in confusion. It had been there, she was sure of it. It had...something nudged her shoulder.

"I believe you lost something." A hand held out the little book to her and Elena, polite despite the shock, gave the newcomer a grateful smile.

"Thanks."

"My pleasure." The stranger had an accent Elena couldn't quite place and though he was doubtlessly attractive with his dark hair and eyes (what was it with her running into attractive strangers in the cemetery, anyway?) there was something about him that just screamed_ 'Run away!_'.

Instinctively Elena's hand rose to touch the spot where the vervain-filled necklace was hidden beneath her clothes – a movement the man seemed to regard with interest.

"Allow me to help you back to your feet." He said in a silky voice and took Elena's hand whose instincts went into a frenzy. There was something wrong here. Seriously, _seriously _wrong. And then it hit her – there was no sound at all. The place was not only bereft of any human beings except for the two of them, but there also seemed to be no animal life. No birds, no insects, no nothing and even the faint sound of traffic in the background felt curiously muted. As if every living thing had fled in the face of a predator.

Elena's eyes flickered back to the stranger and her mouth went dry.

"You can let go of my hand now." She said in what she hoped was a calm way, but the man's smile showed that he'd caught the slight tremor in her voice.

"I'd rather not." His grip tightened painfully around Elena's hands and it almost didn't come as a surprise to her when she caught a glimpse of pointy, elongated teeth when he smiled.

Elena stifled a scream and though knowing that it was useless, she couldn't help but fight against his iron grip.

"Let. Go." She snarled, earning nothing but a triumphant smile.

"I've waited a long time for this." He growled, baring his teeth. "A _very_ long time."

"So waiting a little longer is out of the question?" She heard herself ask in a thin, unnaturally high voice. She was going to die, she thought. This couldn't happen. Not now. She'd borrowed Bonnie's skirt and she had to give it back first and why for goodness sake couldn't she stop thinking about such stupid, superficial things when faced with certain death?

"Enough foreplay." The vampire grinned and abruptly Elena felt her head painfully being pulled back by her hair, exposing her neck. She'd barely gasped in pain when the pull on her hair vanished and something roughly shoved her back, sending her sprawling onto the ground once again.

"Where-?" Elena gasped then winced violently when something heavy landed right next to her, then was gone the next second with a vicious snarl. She moved backwards on all fours, barely able to make sense of what her senses told her.

The was a flurry of motion. The unknown vampire collided with a black-clad figure that simply moved too quickly for her to catch a clear glimpse of, but there was no doubt in Elena's head that there was only one person who would put himself between her and danger.

"Stefan," she breathed and then, as her body reacted faster than her mind, she ducked out of the way as once again a body landed next to her, toppling a gravestone as it crashed into it.

"Stef..." Unthinkingly Elena moved forward as the fight came to a sudden halt, both combatants breathing heavily as they glared at each other, both sporting numerous cuts that were oozing blood. However, it wasn't Stefan who shook his head to clear it of the dirt and leaves that had gotten entangled in it during the fight. It was...

"Damon?" For a moment Elena was too surprised to be scared. "What the hell are you doing here?"

He didn't even react, which all in itself served to be more unsettling than any of the flippant remarks Damon was known for could have done. Instead Damon's gaze remained on his opponent, completely focused on the fight. That alone had to mean that he was up against some serious threat this time, Elena realized and paled just as the silence was broken once again.

"Don't get between me and my prey." The strange vampire snarled nasally, blood pouring down on his lips from the smashed nose.

"She's not yours for the taking." Damon said in a dangerously quiet voice. "Leave now and perhaps you'll survive this."

The other vampire snorted derisively.

Elena could see the muscles in Damon's legs tensing in response, giving him the air of a wild animal, about to jump right back into the fight and a second later she was pushed out of the way again. From that moment on it felt like watching a movie in fast-forward mode. Hits and blocks and punches and kicks were exchanged so quickly that Elena barely had time to sort out just who was hitting whom. It was strangely elegant and though she shuddered back from the violence of the fight, she couldn't quite bring herself to avert her eyes. And then, abruptly, she caught a glimpse of surprise on Damon's face and the next moment the struggle had come to the next stand-still – the foreign vampire had somehow managed to pin Damon to the ground, his bloody fangs just inches above Damon's jugular vein.

"Say good-night, Mr. Salvatore." He growled and pulled Damon back by his hair just like he'd done with Elena earlier. Elena unconsciously held her breath, her eyes fixed on Damon's, reading a silent apology in them.

Later she would never understand what had possessed her in that moment to act the way she did. In fact, she'd joke about it and plead temporary insanity but the fact remained: one second Elena was frozen by fear and the next she was running at the vampire armed with nothing but sheer determination and a rather meek branch she picked up along the way, screaming like a banshee all the time.

Instinctively the vampire turned, the corners of his mouth twisting into an unbelieving smile. Almost lazily he reached out and brushed Elena aside with what he deemed moderate strength that nevertheless sent her crashing against the nearest tree trunk. And then several things happened very quickly. The breath was knocked out of Elena and for a second she was sure she was going to vomit while the vampire's look lingered on her prone form the fraction of a second too long, giving Damon the break he needed. While Elena was still fighting a battle against nausea, Damon twisted around and attacked. There was a horrible cracking sound like a thick branch breaking but much worse and then, almost as quickly as the attack had started, it was over.

The unknown vampire was flung through the air and landed heavily against a statue of an angel which toppled aside with a loud crash and fell to the ground, almost burying the vampire beneath it. For a moment it felt like time stood still as the vampire seemed unconvinced whether or not to renew his attack. His eyes darted from Elena, his prey, to Damon, the unexpectedly ferocious complication to his mission. Then he spat out a tooth Damon had managed to loosen during the fight and pointed a finger at Elena.

"You've been marked." He said through his broken nose. "Don't think you'll escape me."

With a final growl at Damon the vampire made his escape and Elena released a breath she hadn't even been aware she'd been holding. Ever so slowly realization set in. Against all probability she was still alive and the tree trunk was digging into her back and she was going to be in so much pain from the bruises in the morning and...A fresh wave of fear washed over Elena. "Damon!"

"What?"

"Are you still alive?" She asked, mentally smacking herself for the stupid question the very moment it left her lips.

"No." Came the reply. "Haven't been for over a century."

Elena rolled her eyes and, wincing against the pain that movement brought, she forced herself to go his side. Damon was lying crumpled across a smashed tombstone, an unappealing mixture of blood, dirt and rotten flowers covering his body. He shakily managed to push himself into a sitting position, keeping his face averted.

"Smart-ass." Elena said, making the word sound more like an endearment than an insult. "Look at me. Come on." She said as years of patching Jeremy back up when he'd fallen took over her instincts. Of course this wasn't a simple fall and Damon surely wasn't her brother (Elena allowed herself a brief moment of profound gratitude for that) but the instincts were there nevertheless. She barely kept herself from goading Damon into cooperation with sweets as she used to do with Jeremy when he turned around and she got a good look at his face.

"Sh...!" The word was out before she had any chance to hold it back. "You look like hell."

Damon looked almost comically offended at that and Elena had to stifle the urge to giggle hysterically. Clearly the adrenaline was wearing off and shock was about to set in. Any moment now. Just keep it together a little longer, she told herself firmly even while she noticed the way her fingers tightened around Damon's jacket, holding on to it as if her life depended on it. They caught each other's gaze and kept the contact for a moment before they broke the silence at the same time.

"Who was that?"

"Did you really attack a vampire with a _branch_? Who do you think you are? Buffy?"

Elena raised her chin defiantly. "I saved your miserable life." She paused, thinking. "Un-life."

"I saved yours first." Damon pointed out.

"How did you even know I'd be here? Did you do some stalking?"

"Why do you think everything in my life revolves around you? I do have other hobbies, you know."

Elena raised an eyebrow. "In a cemetery?"

Damon shrugged nonchalantly, then winced and cradled his arm protectively against his chest. It was only now that the full extent of his wounds really became clear to her and Elena drew in a shaky breath. The nausea was back in full force from the moment she imagined the full extent of his wounds. He really looked horrible, though something was giving her the impression that he was healing even while they spoke.

"You're trembling." Damon interrupted her thoughts quietly and, with a pained expression, managed to stand up. "We should leave. Figure this out somewhere else."

Elena nodded, some part of her mind realizing that the adrenaline that had kept her going until now was rapidly abating. "Yes. Let's go." She agreed absentmindedly, barely realizing how Damon put an arm around her shoulders in a protective gesture. Instead Elena's gaze was fixed on the broken tombstone Damon had just gotten up from.

The inscription upon it read 'Salvatore'.

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	2. Chapter 2

For disclaimer please see 1st chapter.

A/N: I wanted to thank everyone who read, reviewed, story alerted this story or added it to their favorites. You have no idea who ridiculously glad I was each time I found a note in my inbox, saying someone noticed this story. In fact, I tried to reply to each review whenever it's possible to write a PM and plan to keep that up.

Also, please forgive the lack of Damon/Elena banter in this chapter. She's suffering from acute stress disorder and that affects her witticisms.

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**~ Echoes of the Past --- Part II ~**

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Damon had never been the kind of person who dealt well with pain. He tended to avoid it when possible and certainly didn't share his brother's unnaturally heroic tendencies. In fact, Damon certainly wasn't the sort of man to go out of his way to protect other people (especially when his personal well-being was endangered) and truth be told, he had a long and rich history of whining and whimpering (in a decidedly manly way, of course) when wounded or sick - until all attention was on him, which was something he thrived on.

It wasn't until later – until a time that he would forever link with the loss of his childhood – that Damon was forced to change. A war he'd run into impulsively as a boy and emerged from as a man, much more damaged than he let on. Much more damaged than he was even aware of.

A shuddering breath escaped him, then he steeled himself. This was one of those times. One of the times when he just had to suck it up (no pun intended, he thought with biting sarcasm, repressing his raging thirst) and do it. Get the job done. Roll with the-

"Madonna mia." A jolt of white-hot pain shot through his arm, almost making him long for the numbness he'd felt in his fingers before. A thin sheen of perspiration covered Damon's forehead despite the cold and he started cussing. Silently, as to not disturb Elena who was sitting on broken tombstone, staring unseeingly at her bag. Damon frowned, his own troubles momentarily forgotten. He had to do something – get her to safety – before she slipped into shock. Even more than she had already done, anyway.

Damon licked his dry lips and tried not to think of how much blood he'd lost (acting, hell even just healing wouldn't be half the problem if he weren't so incredibly anemic right now!) and how Elena, holding approximately four to five liters of the precious fluid, was just a few steps away. She was evidently in no state to defend herself and all his troubles would be solved. The pain (oh, that annoying, nerve-wracking pain that kept him from thinking clearly!) the fatigue, the cold – and the hunger.

Damon felt his teeth elongate into fangs and forced himself to turn away. Tried to, anyway, as his gaze still remained fixed on Elena's skin and the blood he could sense circulating underneath it. He could all but _feel_ the fine blood vessels in her cheeks and the strong rush of arterial blood her heart was pumping through her neck to her brain. There was a strangled groan and it took Damon a moment to recognize it his own moan of longing. It had been a long time since he felt so...so very much like a vampire. So far away from everything that was human, leaving only the thirst and monster inside of him that longed for her blood and damn the consequences. The essential vampire.

Damon's muscles tensed, his body preparing to attack Elena almost on its own without bothering to ask its owner's assent. Elena, likewise, seemed to be quite in a daze, not responsive to the world around her. His instincts took over and like an animal stalking its prey, Damon shifted his position ever-so-slightly to get a better angle of attack. And froze.

A sharp hiss of pain escaped him and returned his mind to its previous semi-coherent state. He put a trembling hand to his shoulder (the stupid thing seemed to be dislocated, he noted absentmindedly) and hastily backed away a few steps. He couldn't allow himself to get distracted again. He had to get his shoulder back into place, grab Elena and figure out what happened. And quite possibly find the strange vampire and beat the living daylights out of him. All in the name of preserving his own peace of mind, of course.

Damon sighed as he fingered his shoulder, fighting down a wave of annoyance at the whole world in general and himself in particular. There he was – big, mean vampire with accelerated healing abilities – but all that power meant nothing right now. He was too anemic to use any of them (not to mention that one arm was practically useless) and the only way to change that meant either leaving Elena alone (and who was to say what she was going to do? Who was to say that strange vampire wasn't going to come back to finish what he started?) or biting and inevitably killing her as he wasn't too good on self-control right now – neither of which seemed too recommendable to Damon.

He shifted uncomfortably as he felt his shoulder healing slowly – but it was healing in the wrong position and if it remained that way, chances were that Damon was going to spend eternity with an arm that was less than completely functional – and that proved fatal more often than not when you were a vampire. Damon growled in frustration and automatically blamed Stefan. This was his brother's girlfriend. Why wasn't Stefan here, getting his limbs rearranged? And for what? To see her run right back into his brother's arms? Damon grit his teeth angrily, then shook it off. He wasn't being effective. In fact, he'd lingered here far too long. Mere minutes after the attack, but still – it was long enough for their fanged friend to get some back-up if it existed (a part of Damon shuddered to think of the possibility of facing back-up right now). Time to _do_ something. And damn the consequences once again.

~*~

"Move along. There's nothing to see here."

Unless you counted the mutilated dead body, of course.

Officer Jennings, aged fifty-six and well on his way to pension, cleaned his glasses for about the fourth time this evening. This was unlike anything he'd ever seen before and he had seen quite a lot of things no sane man could ever imagine (as he would tell everyone who bothered to listen). But nothing like this. Nothing remotely close to this in thirty-plus years on the street.

He put his glasses back on and crossed his arms in front of his wide chest. "Go back home. We got it covered."

The girl in front of him - pretty and petite with clear, chocolate-colored skin - frowned and hoisted her bag onto her shoulder. "You got what exactly covered?" She asked, fixing her big brown eyes inquiringly on him. It struck Jennings that she looked a bit like a puppy-dog begging for a morsel of information. He sighed and shook his head. Children were so stubborn these days. It was because of the television, he was sure of it.

"Look, you know I can't tell you anything. So why don't you stop wasting both our time and..."

"Oh!" Her eyes widened even more in surprise and she suppressed a gasp. Jennings frowned and turned, only to see the coroner's team approach behind the ever-present "Crime scene" tapes that warned bystanders not to cross. He had seen far too many of those in his life, Jennings decided and watched them wheel the body (hidden from curious eyes by a body bag, thank goodness) to the car, his colleagues keeping the gaggle of students at a safe distance. Jennings cast a sad look at the body bag. The girl had been so young, he thought, simultaneously relieved and annoyed at the fact that even after all those years a violent death still shook him to the core. Perhaps it was time to think about that desk job he'd been offered. To think about retirement and building the perfect model airplane. He turned back to the girl who had witnessed the scene silently, pressing her big sports bag compulsively to her chest.

"Who died?" She asked quietly, her eyes lingering on the coroner's car.

Jennings shook his head and reached for his glasses again. "You'll find out soon enough. Now go get your cheerleading friends and go home. There's nothing you can do here except catch a cold."

"But..." Her frown deepened and she took a step forward. "Look, I need to know who died. _How _they died."

There was a curious urgency to her voice that caught Jennings' attention. "How?" He asked slowly. "What's your name, girl?"

She blinked at him. "Bonnie. Bonnie Bennett."

"You shouldn't think too much about this, Bonnie." Jennings said kindly, thinking of the puppy he'd gotten his daughter for her eight's birthday. He was pretty sure that Miss Bennett used those expressive eyes to great success with young men. "Don't give yourself nightmares."

She opened her mouth to reply but Jennings never got the chance to find out what puppy-eyed Bonnie planned to say when a young man, a member of the school's football team judging by his shirt, suddenly appeared out of what seemed to be thin air. One second Bonnie had been there on her own with merely a few more cheerleaders in the background and the next one the young man was there. For some reason Bonnie didn't seem to be nearly as surprised as he was, so he figured he must have overseen the boy's approach. A sign of his age, Jennings thought and, attempting to repress the former thought, decided to clean his glasses again.

"Hello, officer." The young man said, his pleasant tone belying the 'rebel without a cause'-air he carried about himself. A young James Dean clad in football clothes, Jennings thought and nodded back in greeting.

"Hello. I trust you were just about to tell me that you're getting Bonnie home?" Appeal to their sense of responsibility, Jennings reminded himself. At least that how things used to work with his own children. And indeed, the young man nodded seriously.

"Yes, we were just about to leave." He looked at the girl who turned the full force of her expressive eyes on him, wearing a dubious expression for once.

"We _were_, Stefan?" She asked and arched a delicately curved eyebrow at him.

"Oh, yes. We were." He stared intently into her eyes and it felt to Jennings as if the young man, Stefan, was attempting to project his very thoughts into the girl's head. Which was ridiculous, of course and – from the looks of it – quite ineffective as Bonnie didn't look particularly impressed.

"Goodbye, officer." Stefan said politely and for a moment Jennings felt a pang of nostalgia at the young man's politeness. You didn't get that too often with today's youth.

"Goodbye," Jennings replied a little stiffly. "You kids go and get warmed up somewhere. It's gotten cold lately."

"It has indeed. Sorry for bothering you." Stefan took Bonnie's bag from her and slung it over his shoulder in addition to his own bag before turning and slowly walking away with Bonnie, almost immediately slipping into an intense conversation. Jennings smiled to himself. 'Ah,' he thought. 'To be young and in love again.'

~*~

Now this was funny, Elena thought. She was there, noticing everything around her but somehow none of it seemed to make it through to her brain. Or perhaps nothing was of enough importance? She tried to ponder that thought but gave up almost immediately. She was just too tired to think. Come to think of it – where was she, anyway? Where had she been before?

Elena blinked, strained to think about it but her thoughts felt like mist that was dissipating even while she struggled to hold on to it. Like dreams. Like...

There was a crash, followed by a low moan and curiously enough it wasn't the crash that caught her attention. It was the moan – like animal in pain – that pulled Elena out of her daze with an abruptness that scared her. All of a sudden it felt as if all the outside stimuli she shunned previously were struggling to reach her brain all at once. She was shaking with cold but her skin was flushed and she felt cold sweat covering her back. She closed her eyes, hoping for a moment's respite from the sensory overload – hoping to calm her rapidly beating heart – but then there was that sound again. That sound that tugged at her senses, making it impossible for the brunette to remain unresponsive. Tentatively Elena opened her eyes again, her gaze falling on Damon who seemed to be growling at a mausoleum that sported an impressing-looking dent on one side. Elena pursed her lips thoughtfully. This was weird. Even for Damon's standards of weird which clearly surpassed everything she had ever come into contact with.

"Please tell me there's a reason why you keep running into stuff." She said, barely able to talk through the chattering of her teeth. However, it seemed to work well enough as Damon winced at the sound of her voice, then turned to give her a shaky grin.

"Elena. Back among the lucid, I see." He pushed himself to his feet and moved his fingers experimentally. Elena tilted her head to one side, eyeing Damon curiously.

"Are you re-discovering your fingers?" Just how hard had he hit that mausoleum, she wondered and shuddered, suddenly and inexplicably terrified.

Damon opened his mouth for a flippant reply, then seemed to sense her distress and closed the distance between them. "Elena?" He asked, looking completely at a loss. He crouched down before her, reached out to take her hands, then reconsidered in mid-movement and remained crouching with his hands on his knees.

"It's harder comforting someone than killing them, huh?" Elena remarked, wrapping her arms around her body to keep it from shaking.

"Don't tempt me." Damon replied and carefully moved his fingers and arm again. Though the pain was evident on his face – his face that looked paler than she had ever seen it, with dark circles under his eyes that looked like bruises – he seemed to be content with the result.

"You look like a raccoon." Elena remarked and giggled at the irritated look she got. She had never met a man with such an ego. It had the size of a small country for sure. Damon cast her a withering stare.

"You don't look too peachy either, sweetheart." He replied and picked her up in his arms. He wavered for a moment, then readjusted the grip of his bad hand, putting more weight on his good arm. "Hold on tight." He whispered into her hair and willed himself to think of anything but her blood. Or her...everything else. Snuggling into his arms as if it were the most natural thing in the world.

Damon swallowed hard to get rid of the lump in his throat and started running. It was time to get them home.

~*~

"What do you mean 'we're leaving?', Stefan?" Having her arms freed of the heavy sports bag, Bonnie made good use of that fact by gesticulating wildly. "Look, this murder is all wrong." She paused, frowning. "I mean, not that not every murder is wrong and that was a double negative, wasn't it? What I mean to say is-"

"Keep it down. He's still watching us." Stefan interrupted, indicating Officer Jennings.

Bonnie lowered her voice a tiny fraction. "Something is wrong here. I have a bad feeling. A murder right here in our school..."

"Because that hasn't happened before?" Stefan asked quietly, the sad smile on his face taking away the sting of his words. "And how do you know there's been a murder? The...dead person could have slipped, fallen and broken his or her neck."

Bonnie gave him an exasperated look and pointed at herself. "See me? I'm a psychic. Witch. Something." She pressed her lips together, suddenly looking very worried, her voice tense. "My witchy sense is tingling. This one has 'trouble' written all over it."

The corners of Stefan's lips twitched and his smile got a tad bit more genuine. Becoming friends with Bonnie really had been one of the best things about returning to Mystic Falls. It ranged right after falling in love with Elena in his opinion.

"What are you smiling about, Stefan? This is bad." Bonnie bit her bottom lip as if internally debating with herself. A moment later she reached her decision to confide in Stefan and caught his gaze again. "I've been having these dreams. You know, those weird ones but not the normal weird ones." She looked uncomfortable for a moment. "You know what I mean?"

Stefan nodded. "Yes, I know. You're the friendly neighborhood witch and your weird dreams are usually not normal weird dreams."

Bonnie stopped, a smile tugging at her lips. "You know, hearing it spoken out loud, it really does sound stupid."

"Perhaps. But not less true." Stefan admitted as they reached her car and Bonnie reached for her bag to pull out the keys. He watched quietly for a moment, a wave of affection for the witch making him feel more at ease than he had in a long time. Elena and he really were lucky to have such a friend, Stefan thought before resuming their, unfortunately more serious, conversation.

"Joking aside," He said quietly. "This _is_ trouble."

Bonnie looked up at him expectantly, holding the car keys in her mouth while both her hands were occupied attempting to zip up her overstuffed bag. "Ow' oh?"

Presuming correctly that she wanted to know 'how so', Stefan explained. "There has been a series of deaths lately. Even more than when Damon came back to Mystic Falls." Stefan hesitated, noting the way Bonnie's shoulders tensed at the mention of his brother. Biting her was another one of those things Stefan vowed never to forgive his big brother for. He hastened to keep talking and distract her. "The thing is, there has been an increasing amount of animal attacks." He scoffed. "In fact, I wonder when they'll start running out of animals to blame for the attacks."

Bonnie, having by now managed to open the car and opening the door, turned back to Stefan. "How do you know that stuff?"

"I read the reports. The doors at Mystic Falls' tiny police station aren't secured enough to keep out a determined vampire." Stefan shrugged, his demeanor reminding her eerily of Damon for a moment. Bonnie blinked to clear her head of the unwelcome association.

"So what do you suggest we do?" She finally asked.

"_We_ do nothing." Stefan pointed out. "_I _will find a way to get a look at the corpse. It's time I started an investigation from a different angle." He shook his head, looking tired and drawn for a moment. "I swear, if Damon has anything to do with this, then..."

Stefan felt a touch on his hand and looked down to see Bonnie reaching out to him in a silent gesture of support. "Then I will help you stake him." She said in a quiet, but deadly serious voice before giving him a small smile. "But before that you need to arrive in the 21st century, Mister. It's been ages since women were hiding behind men. Elena and I will be a part of this 'investigation'."

Stefan smiled, realizing when he was defeated. "All right. Let's call Elena then and tell her about her luck, shall we?""

He picked up his cell phone, dialed the number that was more well-known to him than his own, and waited. And waited some more.

Bonnie gave him an irritated look. "No connection perhaps?"

Stefan shrugged, the smile dropping off his face only to be replaced with a concerned frown as he hit the re-dial button. A moment later a friendly voice informed him that 'the person you've called is temporarily not available'. Stefan's insides turned to ice and upon meeting Bonnie's eyes, he saw the same concern mirrored in her gaze.

"Go find her." She said in a low voice. "I'll go and talk to Grams. If this is caused by something...not normal...then she's our best source of information. We'll talk later."

Stefan nodded once, briskly, and the next moment he was gone, speeding off to look for his girlfriend.

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	3. Chapter 3

For disclaimer please see 1st chapter.

A/N: Thank you all so very much for sticking with me. Each time I get a notification that someone read this story or added it to the alerts or favorites, I get ridiculously excited. Sad as it is, but it totally makes my day.

Please feel free to keep that constructive criticism coming and I really hope you enjoy this. :)

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**~ Echoes of the Past --- Part III ~ **

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*****

"Let's get you out of these clothes."

Elena blinked at the vampire in front of her. A moment ago she had been pretty sure that the shock was every so slowly wearing off but clearly that couldn't be the case. She was imagining things. She had heard of hallucinations and quite surely this was an audio-cination. Whatever it was called.

Damon, the vampire in question, sighed and waved a hand in front of her face. "Elena? Anybody home?"

Elena pressed her lips together in disapproval and gave him a stern look. So much for acting compassionate for longer than half a minute. Of course she realized somewhere that she was being unfair – Damon had, after all, gotten his behind handed to him for her sake, but evidently there had been ulterior motives. Blatantly obvious ones, at that!

Damon, happily oblivious of her thoughts, merely shrugged and addressed her again, speaking slowly and clearly as if talking to a child. "I'm going to undress you now. Try not to...you know, behave yourself." He waggled his eyebrows in a gesture that should probably make sense to her but didn't. Knowing Damon, Elena figured it was probably something suggestive.

A sharp frown of disapproval appeared between her eyebrows. "I trust there's a reason you want me undressed." She replied in a carefully controlled voice. After all, from what she had witnessed earlier she knew very well that the chances she had at attacking a vampire and getting away alive were rather...limited. However, she'd discovered that with this particular vampire a certain disposition toward dry humor seemed to work rather well. "So?" Elena asked again. "Reason?"

"I've got several, actually." Damon replied, a smile that betrayed more than just a little relief, appearing on his face. "Would you like me to sort the reason by the most fun ones or by those which make the most sense?" He paused, thinking. "Let's go for fun." He decided and Elena sighed. She should have known.

"I want to know if that birthmark Stefan keeps going on about is really-"

Reason flew out of the window. Elena's eyes narrowed dangerously and before her mind had any chance to catch up with her body, the brunette had already flung herself forward, ready to slap Damon. However, still being winded from the fight and flight, Elena misjudged her own momentum and instead of hitting the annoying vampire in front of her, she stumbled forward – landing right in Damon's arms, her nose pressed against the cool skin of his neck. She could feel herself flush in embarrassment even while she heard (and felt) Damon laugh.

"I always knew you wanted to jump me." He said, looking impossibly pleased with himself. Elena scowled but didn't quite manage to put her heart into it.

She sighed, suddenly too tired to argue anymore. "You're insufferable."

"But pretty."

"And annoying."

"And dashing. Hunk of a man and all that."

Elena giggled before she could stop herself. "You're really very much in love with yourself, aren't you?"

He shrugged again. "Someone has to be."

And just like that, the mood shifted again – from light and fun to something filled with a tension Elena didn't care (or dare) to analyze any further. Opting for ignorance for once Elena's head sunk against Damon's chest and for a moment she allowed herself the luxury of respite. Somehow, in his own strange and twisted way, she knew she was perfectly safe with him. He had a code of honor that seemed incomprehensible for anyone who wasn't Damon. Elena closed her eyes for a second, relaxing into his arms - too tired for the moment to bother feeling guilty about the fact that she was in the wrong brother's arms. That this one was the 'bad' one. The untrustworthy one who had nevertheless saved her life. And who smelled nicely doing so. Smiling gently, Elena snuggled closer to the safety of his embrace and drifted off into the curious state between sleep and wakefulness.

She wasn't sure how long they remained that way but some part of her knew it was both too long and far too short a time when she felt Damon getting restless.

"What's the matter?" She asked, reluctantly opening her eyes just the tiniest fraction. "A moment ago you were all eager to get me undressed and now you can't stand having me near you?"

A small appreciative chuckle answered her, but Damon's body grew increasingly tense by the second. "Your clothes are wet." He pulled away a fraction and Elena, forcing herself out of that pleasant drowsiness and back into the bleak reality, nodded.

"So are your." She sniffed. "And you're muddy and..." Elena froze, finally caught Damon's gaze and all of a sudden his reason for retreating became painfully apparent. The vampire's eyes had turned pitch-black and he kept staring at her jugular vein with an expression of undisguised hunger on his face. Elena's breath hitched and Damon involuntarily licked his lips as he watched her vein follow the movement underneath her skin.

"Go and get some dry clothes on." Damon rasped out and this time his voice sounded like holding himself back caused him physical pain. "Just _go_." He was almost begging now – a sound Elena had never heard from him before.

"How much blood did you lose?" She asked in a surprisingly calm voice and attempted to move back. And stopped. "Also, you need to let me go."

Damon blinked in surprise, then realized that he still had his arms around her. "Yeah, I should." He agreed and made no move to release her.

"Damon." There was a slight edge of panic to her voice now. Just how much control did a vampire have over their blood-lust, anyway? In particular, just how much control did Damon have? "Let go."

He didn't seem to hear her and with startling clarity Elena realized that this time she just might be out of luck. Damon looked more worn than she had ever seen him before. His skin was ice-cold and now that she knew what to look for, it was painfully apparent that he had been fighting his hunger ever since they had gotten back to the Salvatore Boarding House. Her heartbeat sped up and curiously enough Elena wasn't entirely sure whether it was because she knew that there was no way around getting bitten by a ravenous vampire or due to the vampire's intense stare. Involuntarily, Elena flushed, then reached a decision. If she was going to turn into a snack, then she'd do it on her terms. She raised her chin a fraction and – though utterly terrified – twirled her long, wet hair around her hand and offered her neck.

"Try to..." She found her throat too dry to speak and cleared it nervously, feeling Damon's stare on her like a physical caress. "Perhaps you could restrain yourself and not..kill me." The final words came out as a whisper as fear threatened to overcome the brunette. However, stubborn to the very end, Elena remained determined to see this through and – with a trembling hand – reached out to cup Damon's cheek in her hand. She could feel the slight stubble under her fingers and irrationally couldn't help thinking that it would have been nicer if he'd shaved before biting her. She could feel hysterical laughter bubbling up inside and gave him a shaky smile.

"I'm not a victim. I'm doing this because I want to." It seemed very important to point that out. Elena raised her chin a bit more – an open invitation to the starving vampire. Damon's breath was on her neck a moment later and Elena shivered as the fine hair as the back of her neck rose in response to the close proximity. His lips grazed her skin and a shuddering breath escaped her. Perhaps this really wasn't going to be so bad, after all, she thought.

~*~

And then everything exploded into movement. She felt something impact with her shoulders and a sharp pain on her neck and the world started spinning until it came to a sudden halt when her back hit the wall just as someone cried out her name. The room was filled with the sound of breaking things, moans and grunts and growls broke the silence, followed by crashes as something large and heavy collided with the floor. Elena's survival instincts re-awakened and she made her escape behind the couch she previously sat on, intent on getting some distance between herself and whatever was happening there. Truth be told, this was a far from what she had expected as it could possibly get. Elena determinedly fought down the panic that threatened to overwhelm her. She raised a hand reflexively to touch her neck even while her brain tried to catch up with what her senses told her. Damon hadn't bitten her. His teeth had barely grazed her skin before he had shoved her away. Elena blinked as realization hit her. Damon hadn't bitten her. He'd kept protecting her even now that -

"You..._YOU_...!"

Elena felt her blood run cold as she recognized the voice and – once again ignoring the consequences – she found herself interfering with two irate vampires for the second time in less than four hours. "Stefan!" She yelled, surprised at the panic in her voice. "Let him go!"

Her boyfriend didn't react, his attention fixed on his big brother. Both Salvatore men looked terrifying with their elongated canines, their pale skin and the sheer wildness on their faces.

Stefan, too angry to marvel at the unexpected ease with which he had overpowered Damon, had his elbow pressed to his brother's throat and bared his fangs in a threatening gesture.

"Make one mistake." Stefan growled. "Just one and I swear I'll kill you."

Damon, evidently weakened, snorted. "What? I'd be even more dead than dead?"

A barely human-sounding growl escaped the younger brother and though Damon tired to fight Stefan's grip, it was only too obvious that he had lost too much blood to have the slightest chance. Elena's heart started racing.

"Stefan! Stop it!" She yelled but found herself being ignored again. Stefan raised his arm and Elena wasted to time attempting to understand what he planned to do. She grabbed the thing closest to her - a nice, antique-looking chair – and charged.

Now in the films she had seen this move was almost always a guarantee for success. The heroine hit the adversary with the chair, the chair broke and the day was saved. Unfortunately, this wasn't remotely how it worked for Elena. She charged, silently prayed that neither brother would get too hurt by this (though, technically this really couldn't Stefan, could it? Just distract him for a second?), raised the chair and brought it down on Stefan's back with all her strength. Except that Stefan turned and caught the chair's leg in his hand long before there was any chance of it impacting on his back. Instead the chair remained in one piece and a mighty jolt went through Elena's arms. She let go with a startled yelp and it was her cry of distress rather than the chair that really caught Stefan's attention. He turned around to the sound of her voice, concern evident on his face.

"Elen..aaA?!" He asked and the next moment he felt his legs being kicked away underneath him. Stefan hit the floor right next to Damon and the fight would have resumed immediately if it hadn't been for the fact that both brothers started yelling the same thing at the same time.

"Don't hurt her!"

Both men froze at the accusation and Elena used that moment of silence to make herself heard.

"Stop it, you...you stupid vampires." She was seething with anger and yet, the sheer ridiculousness of the situation wasn't lost on her and she started smiling. It really wasn't her intention and Elena was perfectly clear about the fact that this was far from a healthy reaction to the things she had witnessed that day but she just couldn't help herself. She pressed her hands to her mouth to keep the laughter from coming out but it was in vain. A small giggle escaped her, then another one and soon the laughter came unchecked as she doubled over and joined the momentarily speechless brothers on the floor. A blink of an eye later, Stefan put his arms protectively around Elena and rocked her like a child while tears of mirth streamed down her face.

"Great. Now you've driven her insane." He snarled at Damon who had finally managed to prop himself up on his elbows.

"She wasn't like that when she was still in _my_ arms." Damon observed smugly.

"No, she was about to die when she was in your arms." Stefan spat back and pulled Elena closer who was having none of it, though.

"Boys, _'she'_ is right here." Elena gasped as the laughter finally subsided. Stefan's hand was in her hair, stroking it gently. Elena wasn't sure but she thought she'd heard Damon making gagging noises in the background. She settled into Stefan's arms and sighed. At times it seemed like both brothers had the emotional maturity of three year olds shrieking for their favorite toy. Time to get things back on track.

"Look, there was an attack." Elena addressed Stefan whose eyes narrowed dangerously.

"That much is obvious." He said, then fixed his glare on Damon. "I suggest you leave right now. You've done enough damage. First that poor cheerleader and now Elena." Stefan paused, struggling to get a grip on his anger. "Isn't one death in one day enough for you?"

Damon looked honestly surprised. "But I haven't killed anyone!" He protested and struggled into a sitting position, before shrugging nonchalantly. "Well, not_ today,_ anyway."

"The bite marks on the girl were fresh, Damon." Stefan rolled his eyes. "Or are you implying she bit herself?"

"I'm implying that you wouldn't have been able to beat me if I had been properly fed. Or did your righteousness affect your eyesight?" Swaying, Damon managed to get up and shrugged out of his ruined jacket. "See you around, Buffy." He winked at Elena who watched him with a frown.

"Where are you going?" She asked before she could stop herself. "We need to-"

"_I_ need some blood."

Elena gulped and nodded, recalling the moments just before Stefan burst in to save her. "Try not to..." She shuddered. "Keep away from humans." Elena whispered, holding Damon's gaze, who snorted in response.

"You can go ahead and domesticate my baby brother. But that won't work with me." Damon turned around and left while Stefan raised an eyebrow inquiringly at Elena.

"Care to enlighten me what just happened?"

And with a sigh, Elena did.

~*~

"Grams?" Bonnie flung her bag into a corner with practiced ease and closed the door. "Grams, I'm home. You know, in case you're expecting someone else to come in here and call you 'Grams'." She added in an undertone as she shrugged out of her jacket.

Having thus discarded her baggage, Bonnie toed off her shoes and proceeded into the house. This was weird, she thought. Grams had expected her to come – not this early, that was true – but they'd made one of their infamous baking appointments that both of them cherished much more than they'd ever admit. Bonnie turned around and peered into the living room. Nothing.

"Graaaams?" Still nothing. The lights were on and so was the television. And the radio. And the radio in the bathroom. Bonnie frowned. It was way too loud in here and too bright. She went into the living room, found it empty save for some newspaper clippings on the table, then went on.

"Grams? Come on, this isn't funny." She had a bad feeling about this and lately Bonnie had learned to fear her bad feelings. Her heart started racing in fear and she felt her palms get sweaty. Bonnie licked her lips nervously and opened each door but there was no sight of her grandmother. A small, terrified whimper escaped her lips and that almost made her miss the sound. There was the steady sound of scratching. Something scratching against wood, only audible every now and then when the reporter on tv made a pause. Scratch. Scratch.

Bonnie closed her eyes, focusing on her sense of hearing. Left. It came from the left. From the..."Kitchen!"

She sped off, completely heedless of the danger she might run right into and burst into the kitchen. "Grams!"

There she was. Sitting at the table in front of a cup of coffee, scribbling away furiously on a piece of paper. Bonnie closed the space between herself and her grandmother and gently shook the older woman. No reaction. Bonnie shook her head in blatant disbelief at her grandmother's blank stare and nudged her again.

"Grams. Say something." Bonnie begged. "You're scaring me. Snap out of it._ Please_."

But to no avail. The stare remained vacant and the hand kept writing. In fact, now that Bonnie got a better look at the piece of paper, she realized that her grandmother had pressed down on it so roughly while writing, that it was torn and completely impossible to read.

Bonnie felt her eyes cloud up but, curiously enough, at the same time she felt herself grow very calm. It was up to her this time. This time she had to take care of her grandmother instead of the other way around and this curious state she found her Grams in smelled far too much of witchcraft for her liking.

Bonnie set her jaw into a stubborn line (never realizing just how much she resembled her grandmother in that moment), then gently took the older woman's hand.

"What is it that you want to tell me, Grams?" She asked softly, not quite sure what to expect. And indeed, nothing happened. The scribbling continued and Bonnie bit her bottom lip. She should call Stefan. Perhaps he had found Elena. Perhaps he had an answer?

Bonnie turned around and reached for the telephone. And that was when it happened: a loud snapping sound announced the breaking of the pen and the scribbling stopped. Instead, her grandmother finally spoke.

"They're here. They're here. They're here."

Bonnie dropped the phone.

* * *

*


End file.
